


all i wanna do (is kick it with you)

by towokuwusatsuwu



Series: Pride 2018: 30 Days of S.W.O.R.D. [11]
Category: HiGH&LOW: the Story of S.W.O.R.D. (TV)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Grinding, Introspection, M/M, Movie Night, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 00:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14904992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Ranmaru’s eyes narrow up at him, his fingers digging into Hyuga’s side. “If you tell absolutely anyone what I just told you I’ll fucking kill you and you know that.”“But I’d put up a good fight anyway.” Hyuga waits for Ranmaru to bite his lip again before pulling it free of his teeth, smoothing his thumb over the indents in the soft flesh. “Stop doing that before you hurt yourself. Surprised you didn’t split it in the middle of the fight.”Ranmaru’s dark eyes bore into his face, the intensity overwhelming. “Did you miss me?”“‘Course I did, you fucking idiot. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.” Hyuga reaches under the coat, grips Ranmaru’s arm and tries to manhandle him up. “Sit up. Get up here. Would you just cooperate for once in your life?”





	all i wanna do (is kick it with you)

Though the temple is free for any members of Daruma Ikka to spend time in, Hyuga keeps a few rooms in the very back solely for his own use. Kato is allowed past the doorway into this sacred space, of course, because Hyuga decided long ago when the two of them first met that Kato would be an important part of his life. They fit together like broken glass from the same bottle, and to this day Kato is still the only person worth the privilege. Of course, this was after the complex relationship Hyuga developed with Hayashi Ranmaru.

Inviting him over would no doubt earn the ire of quite a bit of S.W.O.R.D. after the massive battle between their region and the combination of Doubt and the Mighty Warriors, but Hyuga finds himself caring less and less about the particulars. Instead, he settles into the corner of his worn couch and lets Ranmaru use his lap as a pillow, eyes unfocused on whatever movie Ranmaru turned on for them to watch. Something bloody, no doubt. Something brimming with gore.

Hyuga’s mind is fuzzy around the edges, wrapped in a few layers of cotton and he amuses himself with running his fingers through the soft red fur of Ranmaru’s favorite coat. He isn’t wearing it this evening, had kicked all of his clothing except for a pair of boxers away from him and then draped the coat over himself like a blanket an hour or so later, complaining that Hyuga keeps his personal rooms too cold. But he settles down quietly once more, and Hyuga alternates petting his coat and petting his short black hair.

“What’s this even about?” he finally asks, propping one foot up on the coffee table, littered with burnt matches, rolling papers, and half a box of condoms Kato had spilled everywhere in his haste to fuck Hyuga as quickly as possible a few nights ago.

Ranmaru shifts under his hand; Hyuga feels teeth bite down almost too hard a moment later, but not hard enough for him to stop trying to pet Ranmaru’s hair. “Yakuza. It’s a black comedy classic. Thought it might fit in with all the shit we’re going through.”

“Good choice, then.” Hyuga lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking the place where Ranmaru had bit down, unsurprised to find faint marks left behind. “Don’t bite me, fucker.”

“I’m not a dog, don’t fucking pet me.” Ranmaru twists his head around and the light from the screen glitters in his dark eyes, a dangerous promise.

Hyuga scowls down at him and, just to make a point, runs his hand down the side of Ranmaru’s face, careful over the breezes and cuts still healing there, some from Rocky and others from whichever Kuryu bastard tried to make an example of him. “Not a dog, more like a big mean cat. LIke a tiger or some shit, I don’t know, but you’re not a dog.”

“How high are you anyway?” Ranmaru leans into Hyuga’s touch just the same and Hyuga wonders, distantly, if Ranmaru had missed him, or this. “You sound like you’re baked.”

The question makes Hyuga snort and he doesn’t dignify it with an answer, just slips his fingers back into Ranmaru’s hair and tries to pay attention to the movie. Ranmaru’s claim of this being black comedy is fact, but Hyuga is impressed at the amount of blood, the limbs and organs being thrown about. This seems exactly like something Ranmaru would be into, a level of violence he might even aspired toward. Especially the black leather boots with the blades hidden inside of him, if only Ranmaru was not so fond of punching people.

Before Hyuga can start thinking about the prospect of Ranmaru adding blades to his repertoire, Ranmaru twists around on his lap, drawing his gaze down again. Instead of watching the movie, Ranmaru presses his face against Hyuga’s stomach, slinging an arm around his waist to keep him in place. Frowning, Hyuga taps the side of Ranmaru’s head.

“What are you doing down there?” he asks.

“Just… I dunno, missed you or something. Shut up.” Ranmaru’s voice is already deep without dropping a few octaves in the relative quiet of the room, the movie taking a backseat to how hypnotic his voice sounds this close up and half-muffled against Hyuga’s shirt.

Hyuga lifts his hand, brows furrowed. “Missed me? What the fuck does that mean?”

“I said shut up.” Ranmaru heaves a sigh and leans back to look up at him, catching his plump lower lip between his teeth, chewing on it so hard Hyuga thinks he’s going to rip the damn thing off if he isn’t careful. “You changed, y’know that? But I still, I dunno, I guess I just missed you. This. Whatever the hell this is supposed to be.”

That’s an accurate and apt way of putting it. Hyuga and Kato had bounced from label to label for a long time, not quite sure if what they were doing counted as dating or a relationship or not. Kato is his righthand man and one of the only people Hyuga can trust with his body, and maybe at some point Kato slipped a hand between Hyuga’s ribs and stole his heart when he was too stoned to realize what was happening. It’s an excuse instead of an explanation and Hyuga knows it might be a little pathetic, but he knows by this point, at least, Kato is his soulmate.

He and Ranmaru never worked their way around to any label, in contrast. They were friends, they burned the world down together, they occasionally fucked. And then there were quiet, soft evenings like this one, just spent watching movies that Hyuga never remembers the names of because he never picks them out. Ranmaru was better at that, still is.

Hyuga scoffs, taps Ranmaru on the nose. “So you really are soft inside, and you wanted to give me shit for it. I see how it is, hypocrite.”

Ranmaru’s eyes narrow up at him, his fingers digging into Hyuga’s side. “If you tell absolutely anyone what I just told you I’ll fucking kill you and you know that.”

“But I’d put up a good fight anyway.” Hyuga waits for Ranmaru to bite his lip again before pulling it free of his teeth, smoothing his thumb over the indents in the soft flesh. “Stop doing that before you hurt yourself. Surprised you didn’t split it in the middle of the fight.”

Ranmaru’s dark eyes bore into his face, the intensity overwhelming. “Did you miss me?”

“‘Course I did, you fucking idiot. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.” Hyuga reaches under the coat, grips Ranmaru’s arm and tries to manhandle him up. “Sit up. Get up here. Would you just cooperate for once in your life?”

Ranmaru sticks his tongue out at him but at the very least, he grabs the arm of the couch, uses it for leverage to plop himself down in Hyuga’s lap. The coat is wrapped loosely around his shoulders— he must have been serious about being cold— and he straddles Hyuga’s thighs, knees pressed into the couch beside Hyuga’s hips. It’s surreal having him this close once again, but there’s something familiar about it, too. They’ve done this a thousand times before, so it doesn’t feel as weirdly intimate as Hyuga was concerned it might.

“Don’t go back to prison,” he says, hand splaying on Ranmaru’s shoulder closer to his throat, the heel of his palm pressed against Ranmaru’s collarbone. “Gonna be a lot less fun without you around if you do. And don’t get killed by Kuryu, either.”

“Not gonna. I’d rather hang out for a while, see what comes next.” Ranmaru grins at him, his eyes more heavily lidded now. “Good to know I was missed.”

Hirai and Takano probably missed him, too, but Hyuga knows what he means and shifts, hand slipping behind his neck, cupping the warm skin there to pull his head closer. They don’t have the same bond he has with Kato but Ranmaru knows him well enough to lean forward, their noses bumping together just a bit before they fix the angle. Ranmaru tastes like cheap booze and Hyuga probably tastes like smoke and weed but it’s a combination that works, just for them.

Ranmaru is a violent kisser, likes teeth and tongue and bruises, sometimes bites hard enough to draw blood, but Hyuga squeezes the back of his neck in warning when he gets too rough. Hyuga’s not in the mood for it and he can almost feel Ranmaru’s pout before he calms down, gentles himself, relaxes for the evening. Hyuga rewards him for it, slips a hand beneath the fur to skim a hand over Ranmaru’s chest. He’d meant it when he said he was never going to get any surgery despite Doubt having more than enough money, that he’d long since reclaimed his own body even if the parts didn’t match accordingly.

He licks the gasp out of Ranmaru’s mouth, thumbs over a nipple, cups soft flesh in his hand and squeezes. Ranmaru’s hips roll down against his own, a clear sign that he still enjoys this, something Hyuga had been skittery and nervous about when they were younger, dumber, when he was less settled in himself and Ranmaru’s confidence overwhelmed him. But times change, Hyuga has changed just like Ranmaru said. He’s not going to hesitate anymore.

“Here, let me.” Ranmaru wriggles in place, slips a hand between their bodies and his fingers under the waistband of Hyuga’s boxers. “Kato treat you right?”

“Wouldn’t keep him around if he didn’t,” Hyuga confirms.

“Hirai said the same shit when I asked him that question.” Ranmaru laughs, yanks at Hyuga’s boxers until he has enough room to get his entire hand beneath the fabric, fingers slipping through pubic hair until he presses them between Hyuga’s labia. “Good for you?”

Hyuga lets his head fall back against the couch, spreading his legs as wide as he can with Ranmaru still straddling his lap. “Y-yeah, s’good. Just do it like that.”

It’s ridiculous, really, how easy it is to turn Hyuga on, but Ranmaru was always good at such things, at causing them and then taking advantage, fingers always so sure where he touches. Hyuga feels hot, feverish, and he can hear the soft slick noises when Ranmaru rubs between his folds, over his clit until Hyuga’s thighs jerk at the sensation. Ranmaru moans softly in answer, as if  _ he _ is somehow getting off on it, then carefully pulls the hood back, two fingers rubbing over Hyuga’s exposed clit with a certain expertise.

“Did you miss this, too?” Ranmaru asks, his voice low, teasing. “Am I still good with my hands?”

“Yeah. You are.” Hyuga’s breath hitches and his hips buck up when Ranmaru presses down a little harder, too much sensation at once, too much pressure. “Practicing on yourself?”

Ranmaru laughs, tongue lolling out of his mouth, pink and lewd and wet. “You know I have.”

Hyuga doesn’t have to imagine because he’s seen the reality, has seen Ranmaru stretched out with a hand between his legs, breath hitching softly while he touched himself. It might be nice to see that again sometime soon, but not tonight because if Ranmaru is going to offer his services so freely, it’d be damn rude as a host not to return the favor.

“This fine?” Ranmaru braces a hand on the back of the couch, presses his hand in closer as a finger curls inside of Hyuga, just barely, just enough to make the muscle there clench. “You weren't a big fan of it back in the day, that changed, too?”

“S’fine now. Good.” Hyuga rolls his hips down to show this, though a little groan wrestles itself free of his throat when Ranmaru quickly adds a second finger, stretching him open almost before he’s ready for it. “Damn it, Ranmaru.”

Ranmaru laughs in his ear, leaning against him, the softness of his chest almost welcome against Hyuga’s own flattened chest. “You’re so wet. You really did miss me.”

It’s hard to come up with a comeback for that one so Hyuga doesn’t even bother, just rides Ranmaru’s fingers, caught between the insistent press of his fingers and the way his thumb strokes over Hyuga’s clit, an easy rhythm that it’s not fair he can keep up so easily. His wrist has to hurt at this angle but Ranmaru likes pain and doesn’t seem to mind too much. When he adds a third finger, the wet popping noises are louder and Hyuga moans.

“You gonna come for me?” Ranmaru curls his fingers forward and Hyuga’s thighs tremble in response. “C’mon, Hyuga. I know you’ve gotta be close. Come for me.”

He’s close enough that Ranmaru’s whispered words trigger his orgasm, sudden and violent and making his entire body shake in answer. Ranmaru keeps his fingers right where they are for a minute or two, rubbing Hyuga through the orgasm and a little past until his body jerks with the overstimulation. He smears wetness all over Hyuga’s stomach as he pulls his hand free of Hyuga’s boxers, sucking the excess moisture off of his fingers with a wicked glint in his eye.

Hyuga pants softly, then slips a hand under the fur again, catching the waistband of Ranmaru’s boxers. “Owe you one for that. What do you want in return?”

“Here, wait.” Ranmaru stands long enough to pull his boxers down and Hyuga whistles low, smirking when Ranmaru scowls at him. “Stop that. Let me grind on your thigh.”

“That all you want?” Hyuga smirks, pats his lap. “By all means, then.”

Ranmaru climbs back up on top of him and straddles a leg this time, and the moment he settles down Hyuga can feel that he’s wet and hot, probably worked up quite a bit just from getting Hyuga off. If he was anyone else, Hyuga would offer him lube to make it slicker for him, easier, but he knows Ranmaru likes friction, likes a little pain so he lets it be, slumps back and watches as Ranmaru picks out his own pace, rocking his hips back and forth, grinding himself against Hyuga’s leg. The fur tickles but Hyuga doesn’t complain.

“You always like it wet and messy,” he muses.

“Fuck yeah.” Ranmaru’s eyes drift closed, his lips pulling back in a shark’s grin. “Getting you off got me all wound up, it’s not even gonna take that long.”

Just like Hyuga suspected. “You want any help?”

“No.” Ranmaru grips Hyuga’s shoulder and the back of the couch for leverage, rolls his hips down and forward, a gasp caught in his throat. “I got it.”

Hyuga still reaches down, traces Ranmaru’s slit with his fingers before spreading his labia so that when he shifts forward he grinds his clit against Hyuga’s leg. It’s enough to work a loud groan out of him so Hyuga keeps his hand where it is, Ranmaru’s skin hot and slippery.

It doesn’t take long, just like he says. Ranmaru’s body shudders and twitches and then he freezes, head thrown back, face sweaty, hips moving in small and intent little movements until he just slumps forward against Hyuga. They stay like this for a few minutes until Hyuga pushes Ranmaru down onto the couch, grabbing a handful of Kleenex from the battered box on the coffee table to wipe his leg off with. He thinks about it, then twists around to wipe the wetness from the insides of Ranmaru’s thighs.

“What a gentleman,” Ranmaru muses.

“Shut up, idiot.” Hyuga wads the Kleenex up, tosses them in the trash can, satisfied when they soar in without missing. Let it never be said he doesn’t have a few skills here and there. “You wanna finish this movie? How much longer is in it, anyway?”

Ranmaru squints at the screen. “Like half an hour. I’m done using you for a pillow. C’mere.”

He grips Hyuga’s arm and pulls him down, and Hyuga goes with it, his head cushioned on Ranmaru’s chest. Half the fur coat goes on top of him and he would complain about how hot it is but he just sets his gaze somewhere in the general direction of the TV and lets himself float on the post orgasmic-haze, lulled to sleep by the steady beat of Ranmaru’s heart under his ear.

Yeah, maybe he missed him just a little.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to anyone who can figure out which movie they're watching in the background.


End file.
